


Trust Your Own Self-Control

by deLioncourts



Series: Now That's What I Call Self Indulgence! [2]
Category: ONEUS (Band), Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Choreographer Hyunjin, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Solo Artist Keonhee, but not that kind of streamer, don't jerk off at work, hyunjin's also a streamer, self-indulgent nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29145327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deLioncourts/pseuds/deLioncourts
Summary: He checks his phone, left abandoned on the side of his desk, screen flaring up too bright in the dimly lit room. Among the texts and missed calls, one notification stands out.Hwang_hyun00 is live: dance and chill stream. Come hang!Keonhee smiles and pulls up the website on his computer. Just the distraction he needs.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Keonhee
Series: Now That's What I Call Self Indulgence! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172360
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	Trust Your Own Self-Control

**Author's Note:**

> oh look, it's the weirdo who writes 2 people that have never even met. back again with some more nonsense. inspired by this one day they [ both went live at the same time.](https://twitter.com/asaphyunjin/status/1350545656419520512?s=20)
> 
> i wrote this in one sitting because i don't even know why so be gentle. and enjoy!

Keonhee swears he’s been staring at the same blank page for what feels like forever. 

The cursor blinks at him, insistent and cruel, almost as if it’s taunting him to try and keep writing. But he can’t. He hasn’t been able to for hours, maybe days even. Everything he types out he hates immediately, smashing his finger against the delete button on his computer until he’s certain it might break. 

It’s always the last few songs on the album that are the hardest to finish; the ones that have him holed up in his studio for weeks on end, tinkering and re-tooling the lyrics and melodies until his eyes cross and his head throbs from all sides. But for some reason this current bout of writer’s block is even worse than usual.

Sure, he could hire someone to come in and do most of the heavy lifting, but that’s never been what his music is about. His fans have always enjoyed the bragging rights of self composition, and if he’s honest with himself, Keonhee has too. He likes seeing his name listed first among the credits, knowing that when he sings it comes from a place that _he_ created. It’s a long standing stubbornness that sometimes comes back to bite him in the ass.

He can’t exactly pinpoint why he feels so uninspired. His shoulders feel too tight and there’s an ache just beyond his temples that’s making it impossible to focus. He heaves a hollow breath and closes out the tab. Maybe he just needs to give himself a break and reset.

He checks his phone, left abandoned on the side of his desk, screen flaring up too bright in the dimly lit room. Among the texts and missed calls, one notification stands out. 

_Hwang_hyun00 is live: dance and chill stream. Come hang!_

  
  


Keonhee smiles and pulls up the website on his computer. Just the distraction he needs. 

He gets up to stretch out his tired limbs and grab a drink from the mini fridge in the corner of the room while the site loads and the ads play, before plopping back down in his chair. 

Hwang Hyunjin is one of Korea’s top choreographers and a semi-frequent streamer on Twitch. Some days he plays games, others he’s in the backlit dance room showing off a new piece he’s been working on for the classes he teaches or the idols he choreographs for. He’s also one of the single most beautiful people Keonhee’s ever laid eyes on. 

Today he’s sat on the hardwood floor of the studio, face beaming as he reads through the chat. He’s been live for a little while already and Keonhee can tell he’s been practicing. His breath is coming up short and the sweat beads in tiny rivulets along the column of his neck, but the laughter that floats through the speakers is music to Keonhee’s ears.

“You want me to cut my hair? You know the more you say that, the more it just makes me want to grow it out.” Hyunjin quips, mischievous as he gathers the errant strands of his long dark hair and tucks it behind his ears. It’s been dyed recently, the last time Keonhee had caught a stream it was a vibrant blonde. He thinks with a face like that though, Hyunjin would suit any color under the rainbow.

Keonhee’s fingers tingle against the bottle in his hand. He wishes he could leave a comment. He supposes no one would really know it was him, his account is fairly innocuous after all. But after spending as many years in the industry as he has, he figures it’s just better not to risk it. His company has enough on their plate without having to fend off the press with headlines like _“Popular RnB singer Lee Keonhee shocks fans by flirting with top choreographer over Twitch.”_

But that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. There’s just something so endearing in the visual of Hyunjin’s bright smile, his kindness more effortless than his beauty. Keonhee thinks he could have easily made a career in the idol industry, but maybe it’s more telling about his personality that he didn’t. It’s a cutthroat business that’s not for everyone. Even Keonhee himself, who has a comfortable career without a lot of the usual pressures, still sometimes finds it hard to cope.

“What song should I dance to next, hm?” Hyunjin cocks his head and blinks prettily into the camera in a way that has Keonhee uncapping his water, throat suddenly dry. That’s the unnerving thing about the boy behind the screen: his aura. The most benign words and expressions leave Keonhee completely mesmerized. The chat fills, like it often does, with proposals and offers to pad his bank account and Keonhee empathizes. 

Hyunjin’s eyes crinkle with mirth as he reads, hair falling forward over glistening skin and Keonhee swears looking at him feels like summer.

“My account number? You guys are too much. I don’t even have donations turned on for a reason. Keep your money, it’s enough for me that you enjoy what I do.” 

Keonhee’s chest aches with a familiar fondness he often feels when he allows himself to indulge in one of these streams. It’s like his own little secret he gets to keep for himself. He watches Hyunjin get up and shuffle cutely over to the stereo behind him. His simple t-shirt frames the broadness of his shoulders and his jeans hug the shape of his legs in a way that has Keonhee shifting and leaning back in his chair. This is always the hardest part.

The music kicks up, a synthwave beat with a bassline that pulses so deep Keonhee feels it in his bones. 

_“_ That damn _Taemin_ ,” he mumbles, feeling the envy on the edge of his teeth. “Genius...” 

Hyunjin returns into frame to take his position, kneeing in the center of the room. He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling out the tempo before he begins to move. His back arches and his arms run delicate and smooth, every precise motion an extension of the rhythm. 

It must be incredibly freeing, Keonhee thinks, to have that much control over your own body. They’re similar in stature; built tall, long, and eye-catching. But Keonhee’s never been a dancer, never been able to get himself to move in the confident and sharp way Hyunjin does. Mostly all his limbs are good for is taking up entirely too much space and knocking things over when he moves too fast. But what Hyunjin does with his? It’s art.

He should be jealous, he really should. But sitting in the quiet darkness of his studio, while he watches a man he secretly covets paint a sensuous masterpiece with the lines of his body, the only feeling he can conjure up is _want._

Hyunjin fixes the camera with a sultry gaze as he spins and rolls deliciously from his shoulders to his feet, hands sweeping through the length of his hair in one fluid gesture. It’s all a part of the routine he created, a piece to coincide with a singer that thrives on sex appeal, but it makes Keonhee’s cheeks start to warm just the same. 

Suddenly feeling stifled in the stagnant air of the room, Keonhee sets his water on the desk and slings his sweater over his head. He tosses it onto the couch behind him and tries to settle. The music shifts when the chorus reaches a crescendo and the buzzing of Keonhee’s skin only amplifies with every sharp twist of Hyunjin’s hips and the heady feeling of watching him get lost in the music.

Keonhee’s hands tense where he hadn’t even realized he balled them into the legs of his pants. He unclenches his fingers and tries to wipe the errant sweat from his palms but he’s unprepared for the way his hand slips and brushes against the swell of his groin. He groans, surprising himself, and then finally his brain clicks into place.

The tension in his body, the headaches, the way he can’t seem to focus on any task without his mind wandering? He’s _horny._ He lets out a garbled, frustrated sound and tries to remember the last time he’d gotten off. Days? Weeks? Honestly it was impossible to string together time anymore with the way he’s been working himself half to death. 

Keonhee’s eyes flicker from the gorgeous, sweat slick boy on his computer screen down his slowly hardening, mutinous dick and he sighs in defeat. His studio is locked, soundproofed to hell and back, and the battle with his morality is short lived. 

He wraps his hand around himself just over his clothes at first, keening weakly at how sensitive he already is. It really must have been a while. The music thrums in his ears as Keonhee reaches into one of the drawers next to him, pulling out a small bottle of lotion. It’s all he has within arms reach so it’ll have to do. 

He coats his hand and slips it quickly beneath his waistband, moaning out loud with relief at the slide of skin on skin. His breath shudders as he shuffles his pants down just enough to begin to stroke himself in earnest, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. 

It all just feels _wrong._ The mortification of getting off to something that isn’t even porn makes his breath hitch and his cock leak into his hand. He feels like an incredible pervert but he just can’t help himself. If anything it starts to make the desperation worse. 

Hyunjin finishes the routine and collapses onto the floor, the ending notes still lilting in the air. His chest heaves from exhaustion and he groans happily, grinning at the screen. He lays there for a moment, breath coming in pants and hair drenched from exertion. Keonhee lets his thoughts drift; imagining a different kind of scenario in his head that has Hyunjin in a similar state. 

In this version Keonhee’s on top of him, getting to see that beautiful face up close as he rides him, the sole reason Hyunjin looks so blissed out. He knows he’d get fucked so well, a dancer’s strength and sense of control unparalleled. He whines at the thought of it, palming the head of his cock until he shakes.

Keonhee’s so caught up in his own fantasy that he doesn’t even register it when Hyunjin sits up and starts talking again. He snaps to attention with a startled moan when he hears the song change, his own voice singing back at him and Hyunjin humming along sweetly.

“ _Fuck.”_ Keonhee whimpers. The surprise of Hyunjin playing his music out loud makes Keonhee’s thighs tremble and his hand grip into the armrest of his chair until his knuckles turn white. He’s so fucking close.

“Do you guys like this song?” Hyunjin asks. He sighs wistfully, looking like a boy with a hefty crush and Keonhee wants to scream. “He’s my favorite singer. I’d love to get to work with him someday.” 

And that’s all it takes. Keonhee feels his gut twist and drop with an intensity he hasn’t felt in weeks as he comes with a bitten-off cry. 

He slumps back against the chair, stroking himself through the aftershocks and panting little noises until he’s exhausted himself. His body shivers with a pleasant electricity and his mind finally feels like it’s clearing. 

Hyunjin wraps up his stream and signs off, waving in an adorable way that makes Keonhee’s heart feel fit to burst. How someone can be so precious and yet so fatal, he’ll never know. But he supposes that’s why he likes him so much.

Keonhee gives himself a minute to get his brain in order before fumbling for some wipes to clean himself up and look like he didn’t just jerk off in the middle of the day. He frowns at his impulsiveness when he realizes there’s no saving himself from the cum stains on his shirt.

He’s just tucking himself back into his pants when there’s a courtesy knock at his door. He hears the keypad to the room beeping not a second after and he panics, knowing only one other person he knows has the code.

The door swings open and Keonhee tries to look as inconspicuous as possible. 

“Hey babe, how’s it going in here? You finished the song of the century yet?” The door shuts behind Hyunjin with a loud clang and Keonhee can feel it ringing in his ears. Or maybe that’s just the guilt. 

“Do you have time to take a break? You _did_ promise me dinner after all and I know how you hole yourself away up here and forget to eat. I just need to shower real quick and then we can- wait...why does it smell like sex in here?”

Hyunjin crosses his arms suspiciously and Keonhee suddenly finds the ceiling fan extremely interesting.

“I have no idea what you mean, I was working the whole time.” Keonhee swivels in his chair to go back to his desk but Hyunjin’s eyes follow him. The stream tab is still open and Hyunjin’s gaze flits from the screen to the bottle of lotion and wipes sitting on his desk like a bright neon sign shouting ‘MASTURBATION DETECTION.'

Hyunjin laughs so loud Keonhee winces, stuttering in protest as he’s yanked back, his giant lanky boyfriend settling in his lap.

“Aww baby, did you need me so badly you had to get off to me on stream? That’s so fucking _cute._ ” Hyunjin teases, playful as he leans down to kiss Keonhee’s pursed lips, coaxing him gently until he’s whining against his mouth. 

“Look I didn’t mean to. It’s just been so _long.”_

“I know, I’m just messing with you.” Hyunjin shifts to trail the tip of his tongue along the shell of Keonhee's ear, lips twitching with delight as he wriggles in resistance. “We’ve both been so busy. Let me make it up to you.” 

“You’re gonna get us caught, you know?" Keonhee chides. " _He’s my favorite singer._ I almost jumped out of my skin.”

Hyunjin giggles against his neck. None of it was ever a lie. Keonhee had tuned into streams much like today, pining after Hyunjin from afar until one day with a miraculous stroke of luck he’d signed on for a job with Keonhee’s company. They’d run into each other in passing rehearsals; Keonhee blurting out a very loud, embarrassing introduction and the rest, as they say, is history. 

“What’s the harm in a simple comment. It’s the truth, after all. It’s not like I said I was gonna fuck you later. Although, that’s also the truth.” Hyunjin nips at the soft skin at the hollow of his throat and Keonhee whimpers.

“You’re all sweaty...” He pouts, shoving lightly at Hyunjin’s chest until he leans back and looks him in the eye.

“That didn’t seem to bother you twenty minutes ago,” Hyunjin smirks, watching Keonhee’s mouth flap with an empty response. He rolls his eyes fondly and finally takes pity on him, but not before shaking his sweaty hair in Keonhee’s face like a wet dog and cackling as he’s shoved unceremoniously to the floor. 

Keonhee unloads a choice list of expletives before standing over him, reaching out his hand and sighing with affection. 

“Come on, the shower can fit both of us.” 

**Author's Note:**

> to anyone who enjoys this extremely niche bullshit, know that i love you.
> 
> for every comment and kudos, another rare pair gets it's wings.
> 
> if you're 18+, find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/asaphyunjin)


End file.
